He didn't get any better. In fact, it was just the opposite - Harry's strange sickness continued to get worse as the night passed.
There was no such thing as sleep for Elsah that night - who kept a close eye on Harry. He repeatedly ran to the bathroom, heaved until he couldn't anymore, and slumped back to the bed. The only thing was is that he hadn't eaten anything, so there was nothing to throw up.
It has finally been an hour since he last got up, and as Elsah paced back and forth next to his bed, she didn't know whether to feel relieved or worried about that. As she halted her pacing next to him, she leaned over his bedside, pressing a hand to his forehead.
She flinched at the heat - he was burning, burning hot. Dangerously hot. Elsah knew enough about human medicine to know that a fever can kill and denature the body's proteins, in effect, killing them.
"Harry," she whispered, shaking his shoulder lightly. "Are you okay?"
No response. No response at all.
She raised her voice. "Harry. Harry, please? Please talk to me. Tell me you're okay?"
She could see his eyes roll underneath the closed lid, but he still didn't answer. Panic rose in her stomach, and she didn't know how long Harry could last this if the fever did not kill him.
No. Elsah thought. No, he's not going to die. He can't.
But then, weakly, Harry sat up. His eyes were still closed, as if he was asleep, and his lethargic state made Elsah think that he really was asleep.
The cough that left his lips was violent - a hacking from deep within his lungs, and it took a few minutes for him to stop. In the time that he coughed, Elsah had rushed to get a glass of water for the feverish man.
When she brought the glass to his lips, he took a drink, and then handed the glass back to her.
On the rim of the glass was stained with blood, as were Harry's lips.
"Harry! Oh my god, you're coughing up blood!" The pitch of her voice was high with hysteria.
His eyes fluttered open, for just a second, and he looked up at Elsah. "I'm fine-"
And that's when his body fell limp against the bed, unconscious.
At the break of dawn, with shaking hands, Elsah produced the small platinum knife she kept in her pocket. It was kept in a case, embedded with sapphires and ancient jewels.
To someone who didn't know, they might've looked at the blade and thought that it was "pretty cool" or something of the sort. But to the very few people who actually knew, the platinum blade all of a sudden meant so much more in the hands of a Half.
Because if they knew, they understood the fact that this was the only metal to ever be able to cut through her fair skin. But Halves where always known for their gentle and calm nature, and so the sight of one with a blade to her own skin held quite a bit of irony.
But Elsah didn't have another choice, not with this strikingly attractive man dying. She had to do something about it - it couldn't happen.
So she pressed the blade to the skin of her wrist, gasping as it sliced it. She brought the now-bleeding wrist to Harry's lips, allowing him to ingest it while still unconscious. She made sure to not look at the injury she caused herself - the sight of blood made her uneasy.
It would have been better to be able to inject her blood directly into Harry's veins so that it can get to his bloodstream quicker, but Elsah didn't have the tools and time to do that, and this was the next best choice.
The loss of blood made Elsah dizzy, so she sat down on the bed next to Harry as she kept her wrist to his mouth.
It didn't take long for the wound to heal - Halves heal much quicker than humans, and the bleeding ceased within minutes.
Half an hour later, Harry's fever went noticeably down, and the curls of his hair stuck to his head in a cool sweat. Elsah finally breathed, sighing with relief.
But the loss of even more blood left her weak, exhausted, and unable to move, so she stayed on the bed with Harry, moved to the other side, put her head down and let sleep claim her.
Elsah woke with a start, sitting up and gasping for air.
Her eyes flicked down to where Harry was supposed to be lying, but he was no where to be found.
She kicked her legs off the side of the bed, and slowly stood up because she was still dizzy due to the loss of blood.
There was no answer, just a silent echo throughout the empty apartment.
He must've left. She thought with a hint of nostalgia. He must have felt better, and picked up and left.
She couldn't blame him, though. He was a human after all, and the inane human nature was greedy and selfish. Once they got what they wanted, they picked up and left. There was nothing more to it than that.
But she couldn't help but feel a bit of sorrow and disappointment. She still wanted to see him, to see the dimples pop when he smiled, and to hear his full, throaty laugh, even though she had known him only for a few days.
It was wrong, terribly wrong, but one cannot control what they feel inside - they can only try to ignore it.
When she stood up to make the bed, the sound of a door opening echoed through the small apartment, making Elsah freeze in terror.
"Fuck!" A familiar voice cursed after hearing a thump, causing Elsah to flinch.
As she approached the entrance of the apartment, she realized that it was indeed Harry, carrying two cardboard boxes and a plastic bag.
The jades of his eyes look up to meet Elsah, and he flashes her a smile. "Hey, Elsah. Mind getting the bag that fell on the floor for me?"
She nodded quickly, almost in an obedient manner. Snatching up the bag, she realized that there was a bottle inside - a two-liter bottle of soda.
"Come to the kitchen, I brought food." He motioned for her to follow him, and she did.
Although she didn't say anything, Elsah was surprised at the fact that Harry even knew that there was a kitchen. But then again, he must've woken up before her, checked out the small living space they were in, and then left to go get food.
"Here, set that down over there." He said in a slow voice, pointing to an empty counter. "Or actually, just put it in the fridge since we won't be able to open it because I just dropped it."
She nodded and did as he said, putting away the bottle of soda. When she turned around, Harry was stretching upwards, reaching for the plates in the cupboard, and she watched as the muscles in his back slid over one another appreciatively.
He was attractive - that was a fact. His stature was well-built and strong, even after he'd been practically beaten to pulp not too long ago. A hint of the bruises showed through the tight white shirt, but they had faded for the most part - her blood had worked wonders on his body.
"Are you feeling better now?" Elsah asked as he set a pair of plates down onto the counter.
"Much. Thank you for everything." He turns around to look at her, his hands slipping into the pockets of his blue jeans. "I know I told you I didn't want your blood, but I don't think I would've survived the night without it. I must've caught something nasty with all my open wounds."
She nods, accepting his gratitude. "I left that solution until it was absolutely necessary. I know you didn't want-"
"It's not that I had anything against you, babe. I just didn't want to drain you of blood, you've already given me so much."
Elsah's stomach turned at the pet name he called her, thousands of butterflies fluttering within. She couldn't stop the smile from playing on her lips and the blush from rising onto her cheeks, but she did look away. "Oh."
"Hey, look at me." Harry said, his voice soft and smooth as he slipped a finger underneath her chin. "You're blushing again?" It came out more of a question than a statement.
She just pulled away, and shook her head in denial. "What did you bring?" She asked, diverting the attention away from herself.
"Oh," Harry's eyes widened, as if he suddenly remembered what he'd brought. "I went out and bought some pizza."
"Two boxes?" Elsah arched her eyebrow. "Isn't that too much?"
He scratched his head, and opened the cardboard boxes. "Yeah, but I wasn't sure if you liked just cheese, or pepperoni, so I got both."
Her heart warmed at how thoughtful he was, and she smiled. "Thank you so much. I'll take some cheese pizza."
"Okay, good. I was worried for a second that you didn't eat pizza." He smirked a bit, and one side of his dimples popped in the most attractive way. "Here's your plate."
She thanked him, and then he took a plate and motioned for her to follow him. She did so, again in an almost obedient manner, and that was something Harry took note of subconsciously.
"Do you mind?" He asked, picking up the remote control to the television.
She shook her head. "No, go right ahead."
So they didn't talk much, just eating pizza and watching the news.
All was normal until the same events of last night started to reoccur once more.